


Boys of Summer (Part III)

by sanguisuga



Series: Boys of Summer [3]
Category: BBC Sherlock, Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: And yes it's sad, Angst, Belly Kink, But They're Teens - 16/17, First Love, First Time, Flashbacks, Flirting, Foreplay, Frottage, Hand Jobs, I'm Sorry, M/M, Making Out, Oral Sex, Peter Is Very Good About Consent, Recovered Memories, Snogging, Summer Romance, Tagged Underage, Teasing, Teen Romance, beach holiday, because there's gotta be a goodbye, but not really, eventual Mystrade, good ones though, or at least a belly fascination
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-02
Updated: 2017-07-11
Packaged: 2018-10-14 01:07:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 8
Words: 10,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10525695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sanguisuga/pseuds/sanguisuga
Summary: A continuation on Mycroft's recollection of the last summer before Uni, and of the boy that captured his heart. (Or - The One Where They Went On A Kinda-Sorta Date...)





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here is where everything is made right with the world!
> 
> This is also where it gets dirty, but in a sweetly innocent way. Because we all know just how innocent my writing is. *cough*
> 
> Kisses to all my lovelies, please comment!

They had just finished supper when the knock came. Mycroft looked up from the table as Father turned the handle, opening the door wide in his surprise. Looking quite smart in a pair of chinos and a polo shirt, the boy stood just outside, his hands twisting uncertainly in front of him. Cheering internally, Violet Holmes swiftly pulled her eldest son’s chair away from the table, jolting him out of his silent reverie.

Without speaking a word, she handed him his windbreaker and pushed him toward the door. Blinking rapidly, he stared at Peter’s face, only barely aware of the hand that was being held out to him quite boldly. Taking it as if in a dream, right under the watchful eyes of his mother and father, Mycroft stepped closer.

“Walk with me?” Peter’s voice was a bare whisper, and Mycroft could only nod his agreement, his heart stuck fast in his throat.

He jumped slightly as he was taken by the shoulders, as his mother leant into him and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Be back by one.”

Rather startled at being given such a lenient curfew, Mycroft half-turned to her, holding tighter to Peter’s hand. “I-in the morning?” She smiled and nodded as his apparent date for the evening chuckled, and with that, he was pulled out into the burgeoning night, his jacket held tight in one hand, his hopes and dreams in the other.

Peter swung their arms as they walked, his eyes glittering in the deepening dusk as he glanced at Mycroft, his cheeks round as he grinned at him irrepressibly. The rain earlier in the day had left the air crisp and clean, and the clouds had completely vanished, leaving the full moon to light their path without obstruction. Both seemingly content to walk in silence, they meandered along, their feet subconsciously carrying them to the pier. There were other people scattered about, but they all seemed to have business of their own, as none of them paid the least bit of attention to the two boys.

They kept walking, their steps echoing dully on the weathered boards until they came to the end, to the corner where the lights just happened to be out. Mycroft smiled faintly as he stood in the same spot that he had that morning, looking out into the darkness as he draped his jacket over the handrail. He stiffened as Peter moved closer, his stomach sinking slightly as he slipped his hand free. But it was only so he could not-so-furtively wipe it on his trousers, and Mycroft found himself giggling as he did the same.

Peter reached for him again, his fingers still somewhat clammy, but no longer outright wet with sweat. “Sorry - nervous.”

“You?” Mycroft eagerly tangled their fingers together, hoping that his thundering heartbeat could not be heard over the sound of the breakers. 

Peter scowled at him, but there was no true anger in his eyes, only doubt and uncertainty. “There en’t been nobody that’s turned my head like you have.”

“I don’t understand.” Mycroft shifted just a tiny bit closer, his eyes darting over his companion’s face. “Why?”

“Dunno, really. I just - like you, I guess.” He quirked that devastating grin at him, and Mycroft’s belly flipped uneasily. “Maybe it’s true love - like Shakespeare, innit?”

Mycroft snorted. “At least our families aren’t at war with each other. Not that I even know your family name.” He tilted his head imperiously. “Or any name at all, come to that.”

“S’more mysterious that way, yeah?” 

“You are an imp.” Mycroft daringly reached out, trailing just the backs of his fingers over the boy’s cheek. “My immortal youth - my Peter Pan.”

Peter reached out to cup his jaw with his free hand, and Mycroft was thrilled to feel his fingers trembling as he slid his hand across, his thumb brushing lightly over his bottom lip. “My Mycroft.” He tilted his head as he shifted ever closer, his eyes filling with a gentle fire. “May I?” 

Mycroft gaped in pure astonishment, utterly taken aback by the boy’s consideration and restraint. He tried to shake it off with humour, his voice quavering as he attempted a saucy smile. “May you what? Ask properly, Peter.”

With a tiny growl, Peter untangled their fingers and wrapped his arm around Mycroft’s waist, pulling their bodies flush against each other. “You infernal pain in the arse... May I kiss you?”

“Well,  _ you’re _ certainly no Romeo.” Still Mycroft hesitated, even as Peter’s quiet laughter brushed over his face. As desperate as he was to take this step, he found himself reluctant to let go of his innocence, understanding instinctively that nothing would ever be the same after that inevitable moment. “I’ve never - I mean...” He glanced up and down again, focusing on the boy’s lips, so very close to his. “What if I’m not any good?”

“Then we’ll just hafta practise, yeah? An’ then maybe we’ll practise some more.” Mycroft’s knees started to shake, and he buried his face in Peter’s neck, humming as he was rocked gently. “C’mon now, my fine lad. May I kiss you, sweet Juliet?”

“Oh, for God’s sake.” Before he could over-think it, Mycroft awkwardly pressed his mouth to Peter’s, huffing breath through his nose as he kissed him clumsily. He pulled away at the soft sound of surprise, blinking owlishly at dark eyes wide with delight. But before anything else could be said, his Romeo moved against him, pinching his chin and tilting it just so before taking his lips. 

Mycroft whimpered quietly as he gave himself over to Peter’s knowledge and skill, letting him set the pace, following his lead. Perfect, oh God he was so very perfect - especially as he disengaged their lips, lightly knocking their foreheads together as he continued to stroke Mycroft’s face and neck. It was simple, it was sweet, and even though Mycroft felt as though he never wanted to move from this spot, there was a small fire in his belly that was stoked ever higher with every soft brush of the boy’s lips.

It flared up almost unbearably as there was hot breath at his ear, a gentle nip at the lobe that absolutely overloaded all his senses. Mycroft’s fingers reflexively scrabbled at the ladder of Peter’s ribs underneath his shirt, momentarily confused as to how they even got there. His head swam, and the arms that had been cradling him so gently only a moment before tightened around him as his knees went alarmingly wobbly.

“Here now...” Mycroft stumbled along as he was tugged at gently, sinking down onto a nearby bench, staring at the boards underneath his feet as his jacket was draped over his shoulders. He gratefully leant into Peter’s body as he slipped an arm around his waist, feeling oddly small and somewhat lost. “We’ll just take a mo, yeah?” Mycroft nodded, pressing closer to Peter’s warmth. He shivered as there was a gentle tug on his earlobe. “That weren’t too much?” Mycroft pulled away to look into his companion’s face, a little startled by the worry reflected in those dark eyes. “I... I mean - nuthin’ you dun’t want, okay? You just gotta say - just tell me to stop if you need me to.” His expression shifted into something gentle and yet fiercely protective, making Mycroft’s breath catch in his throat. “I dun’t want to scare you, or - or hurt you.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More snogging because why not?
> 
> Please comment!
> 
> *muah!*

Mycroft shook his head, reaching out with shaking fingers to trace over Peter’s thigh. “I know I’m safe with you.” He tilted his head, leaning in a bit closer as he exposed his neck. “Please. Do it again.”

“ _Oh._ Oh, you...” Mycroft closed his eyes as gentle fingers combed through his hair, as he felt the first tentative brush of lips against his skin. He pushed into the low vibration of Peter’s soothing hum, shivering as he traced the tip of his nose under and behind his ear. And then, yes, oh _yes_ , that sharp nip, that persistent tug and utterly maddening flicker of tongue.

Mycroft gasped as he shivered, his head once again threatening to simply float off into the clouds as there was a soft growl and a fumbling tug at his shirt. He blinked himself back into some sort of awareness and stared mindlessly at the surprisingly broad fingers attempting to pull his shirt free from his trousers.

“Please? May I - oh please.” Peter’s lips quivered against his ear, his voice trembling with desperation. “Want to feel your lovely soft skin, oh please...”

“But...” Mycroft blinked again, poking at his chubby belly in surprise. “But I’m...”

“Beautiful.” Peter’s eyes were clear, his face open and honest. “You are beautiful, and I want to feel all of ya - if you’ll let me.”

Instead of answering, Mycroft shifted and wriggled, untucking his shirt himself. He blushed and avoided Peter’s earnest gaze as he did so, awkwardly fingering the hem as he tried to shrug. “I’ll let you.” Suddenly feeling bold, he looked straight into the boy’s face. “I’ll let you touch me anywhere you like.”

“Oh God.” He was swiftly overwhelmed by an all-encompassing kiss as he was swung unceremoniously into Peter’s lap, but he didn’t care because there were hands on his bare skin, and they were _his_ hands, so rough but gentle all at once, squeezing and caressing and loving the one bit of him that Mycroft had always loathed. “Oh God, oh God...” Peter shuddered as he touched him, his lips grazing over chin and jaw, messily smearing over his mouth. “Oh God, you feel so - _hnnnghhh..._ ”

Mycroft writhed on the boy’s lap, wanting to press closer, wanting to lay himself out to grant permission to touch every single inch, wanting... 

_Wanting._

He moaned as he threw his arms around his neck, kissing his lips, his neck, rubbing their cheeks together as Peter reached around to unabashedly tweak his bum. Mycroft startled with a little giggle, but then his belly was the focus of ardent attention again, and he was so bewildered by the boy’s absolute fascination with it that he buried his face in Peter’s neck and simply whimpered.

Peter’s hands smoothed up and down his back, his thumbs tracing circles on his skin, daringly slipping just the tips of his fingers inside the waistband of his trousers. Mycroft sat up slowly, his heartbeat still thundering in his ears, but calming into a steady rhythm as Peter’s hands worked at him. He bit his lip as he looked at his companion’s face, his eyes huge and dark, his cheeks delightfully pink. He traced over his kiss-bitten lips, shivering at the swirl of nerves deep in his chest as Peter’s hands swept over his skin, his thumbs grazing idly over his nipples.

Mycroft’s mouth dropped open on a low moan as his body tried to register this new sensation, his hair standing on end as there was a sharp spike of pure pleasure zinging straight through his belly and right to the base of his cock. He’d been assiduously ignoring the damn thing, but now it was positively throbbing, and he knew that if he didn’t put a stop to Peter and his devilishly wonderful hands, he would make an awful mess in his pants right then and there.

Mycroft hissed as he abruptly shoved Peter’s arms down, and although there was a brief moment of shock registered on his lovely face, in the next moment his mouth formed into a tiny ‘o’ of realisation. He obediently stilled his restless fingers, simply clasping Mycroft by the waist and holding him steady as he struggled to contain himself.

In the moment of hushed stillness that followed, Mycroft became almost painfully aware that they were more or less out in the open for anyone to observe. Although night truly had fallen and it seemed as though there were very few people about, he felt his spine stiffen with anxiety as his erection wilted quite suddenly. Peter tilted his head and gave his legs a little bounce, making Mycroft yelp quietly and clamp his hands onto his shoulders in a bid to stay seated.

“I know a place - where we won’t be seen.”

Mycroft rolled his eyes as the boy smirked, his eyes once again glittering with wicked mirth. “Of course you do, you devil.” He bit his lip as Peter’s thumbs started to work against the flesh of his belly, feeling certain bits down below starting to perk up again. “But...”

_I’m not ready, I don’t want it to be over so soon, I want this to last forever, I don’t want to let you go, I want - I need - I love…_

“Let’s walk for a bit, hm? Make it last.”

Mycroft stared for a moment, wondering if he had somehow heard him, wondering if perhaps the same thoughts were running through his head. He let Peter guide him, standing on shaky legs, gratefully slipping his arms into his jacket as it was politely held out for him. He didn’t bother to straighten out his hair, nor did he tuck his shirt back into his trousers. What was the point, when he knew that it would all be coming undone again anyway?

In some fashion, he supposed that he was proud to be seen in a state of disarray while holding this boy’s hand, almost eager to let it be known that this perfect being had deigned to lay hands on him and had found him pleasing. But for now he had to hold such thoughts at bay, and so they walked on, tramping over the tops of the dunes, where the seagrass held the transient earth somewhat steady. They talked as they went, about everything and nothing in particular, Peter’s grand gestures as he told his stories so expansive that Mycroft was very nearly pulled off his feet several times.

But he didn’t let go, no matter how his arm was swung nor fingers squeezed. He gasped and giggled in all the appropriate places and Peter’s eyes absolutely shone as he looked at him in the moonlight. Mycroft gazed out over the water as they paused, realising that he wanted to feel the ocean licking at his ankles, to marvel at the sensation of his toes getting sucked in by the wet sand one more time before he had to leave this magical place.

Before he could blink, Peter had untangled their fingers and was crouching in front of him. “Go on, kick ‘em off.” Nonplussed, Mycroft toed off his loafers and shivered as the cuffs of his trousers were rolled up to mid-calf. He ducked down to retrieve his shoes as Peter fell down on his bum and took his own trainers off, swiftly rolling back onto his feet in one smooth movement. With a wink and a soft shout, he ran down the dunes toward the shore.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gee, I wonder what happens next?
> 
> Hee! Please comment, my lovelies - it's gonna be a long week!
> 
> *muah*

Mycroft followed at a more measured pace, laughing as Peter jumped and kicked at the tide rolling in, immediately soaking through the trouser cuffs that he had rolled up, but apparently not high enough. He obligingly splashed around for a bit himself, but took a moment just to breathe and to feel the vastness of the water spread out before him. Peter seemed to sense that he needed that moment to himself, and he quieted down, simply standing nearby until Mycroft turned his head to smile at him.

Holding out his free hand, Mycroft bit his lip as it was clasped eagerly, swiftly drawing Peter in for a gentle kiss. Mycroft smiled crookedly as his companion seemed to waver where he stood, his eyes dazed and lips turned up foolishly. Mycroft turned and started walking back toward the pier, the tide tickling at his feet. Once again, Peter seemed content just to be by Mycroft’s side as he walked silently alongside him, their fingers intertwined. He made no demands, but clearly let his desires be known through heated glances and the occasional brushing of his lips over Mycroft’s knuckles.

Their steps slowed as Mycroft once again looked out into the darkness, only the whitecaps of the waves washing in reflecting in the moonlight. He leant back against Peter’s solid presence as he wrapped an arm around his waist from behind, shivering as he kissed the back of his neck and nuzzled behind his ear with a rather chilly nose. Turning in his embrace, Mycroft knocked their foreheads together and breathed into the space between their bodies.

With his heart pounding, his blood racing and skin tingling, Mycroft brought his mouth to the boy’s ear and made his demand in a hoarse whisper. “Peter. Take me somewhere where we won’t be seen.”

Peter’s full-body shudder did not go unnoticed, since they were pressed together so closely that it fairly made Mycroft quake as well. “Are - are ya sure?”

“Absolutely. I want...” Mycroft blushed abominably, but he hid it in the boy’s neck. “I want to feel your skin on mine. Please, Peter.” Mycroft hesitated as Peter froze absolutely still, cautiously running his lips over his jaw. “And you? What do you want?”

“That.” The boy breathed out a quiet sigh, pulling back to look Mycroft in the face. “Oh, very much that.”

Mycroft felt his mouth turn up into a wild grin, and he laughed openly as Peter bent at the waist and brought his hand up to his lips as a courtly gentleman might. He was still giggling as he was towed along, nervous excitement battling the anticipation in his stomach, the whole jumbled mass slowly resolving into a sense of certainty. 

Whatever happened from this point forward, it was going to be right, and furthermore - fun. This entire experience had already been so much more than Mycroft could have possibly dreamt, and he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that Peter would ensure that his first time would always be looked upon with fondness. Perhaps that was more responsibility than should be conferred onto a seventeen year-old boy’s shoulders, but Mycroft fully believed that his impish companion was up to the task.

He wasn’t entirely surprised to find their steps still leading toward the pier, into the darkness underneath. Peter paused at the mooring nearest the dunes, dropping his trainers onto a tuft of seagrass that seemed to have been flattened down for just that purpose. He bit his lip as he reached out to take Mycroft’s shoes, bending down to arrange them carefully next to his. Peter once again swung their arms gently, his eyes twinkling in the moonlight.

“It’s, um - like a signal.”

Mycroft shook his head, once again pondering just how he had come to be in this place, with this boy. “Like a tie on the doorknob, I suppose?”

Peter chuckled softly. “Yeah. We’ll be alone here. If ya...”

Mycroft swiftly put a finger to Peter’s lips, anticipating the question. “Yes, absolutely.” He slipped around the post, tugging his companion along behind him. “I  _ do  _ want to be here - with you.” He stopped short just inside the shelter, looking around in slight surprise. Although it had seemed to be utterly dark from the outside, there was a fair amount of moonlight streaming in between the moorings. Enough so that he could clearly see the beach mat neatly arranged on the slope, and what appeared to be a blanket or two folded nearby. Mycroft did not allow himself to imagine just what might be on those blankets, as this seemed to be the local ‘makeout spot’, and goodness only knew how many people had partaken of its relative privacy.

He shivered as Peter tucked himself up against his back, wrapping one arm around his belly and giving him a little squeeze. “Don’t you worry none. Washed ‘em myself just this afternoon.” Mycroft huffed out a laugh even as his stomach quivered, turning his head so Peter could nuzzle against his cheek. “Thought you might appreciate it, bein’ the fastidious critter that you are and all. An’ well, when I got word that you wanted to see me, I may have let myself hope a bit, so...”

“Ah. So that was what Sherlock was up to this afternoon.” Mycroft smiled against the corner of Peter’s lips. “I’ll be sure to thank him later.”

“Ah, well now - don’t let’s get carried away or nuthin’. I’m sure he was just thanking you for your lovely gift, and if you thank him for thanking you, then it’ll just be endless thank yous for the rest of your lives.”

Mycroft let out a spluttered giggle. “That is an excellent point, Peter. And I must say that you are quite correct about my tendency toward tidiness - how lucky I am that you’re so thoughtful.” Mycroft swallowed against the tremor in his voice, closing his eyes as the heat of Peter’s body faded away from him. He opened them again at the sound of shuffling in front of him, gulping quietly as Peter went to his knees on the mat and reached for something just out of sight. He tilted his head as he looked down at the cardboard box that was full of drinks and snacks, silently marvelling at the planning that seemed to have gone into this enterprise. 

Peter shrugged as he cracked open a bottle of something fizzy and sweet. “Figured it couldn’t hurt, and if ya didn’t want to - y’know - we could always just sit and chat instead...”

Mycroft rolled his eyes and started to fiddle with the buttons on his shirt, slowly slipping them free one by one. “I’m beginning to think that perhaps  _ you _ are the one who would prefer it if we slowed down, Peter.”

The boy stared up at him with humourous defiance in the curve of his lips as he capped the soda and put it back in the box. With his dark eyes still firmly affixed to Mycroft’s face, he skimmed off his shirt and tossed it to the side. “We’ll just see about that. Now you come on down here.”

Mycroft gulped again as he followed his companion down onto the mat, his fingers still fumbling awkwardly with his shirt buttons. He avoided Peter’s eyes as the boy stretched his legs out, leaning back on his elbows and tilting his head to watch. Mycroft shuffled forward slightly, nudging one knee against Peter’s leg. “I-I’m not sure...”

Peter’s bold stance softened as he sat up, patting his thighs gently. “Just like before, when we were up on the bench. I want you right here in my lap, my fine lad.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mycroft gets a wee bit bolder...
> 
> Please do comment - my boys need more attention!

Mycroft reached out to steady himself on the boy’s shoulders before cautiously swinging one leg over and straddling his thighs. He watched as Peter’s fingers deftly worked the last button on his shirt loose, his spine twisting gently as strong hands slid around his bare middle to clasp him tight. Mycroft blinked down at the top of Peter’s head as he mumbled something into his breastbone before turning his cheek into him and simply holding him in silence.

Mycroft ran his fingers through Peter’s hair and cupped the back of his head, curling in around him protectively. As startling as the physical sensations he was experiencing were in addition to the confusingly unfamiliar jumble of emotions, Mycroft found himself contemplating only one thing. _‘Is this truly what love feels like?’_

He looked down as Peter tilted his face up to him, beckoning him to take his lips without saying a word. Mycroft bent down rather awkwardly to oblige, staying up on his knees and blushing as Peter narrowed his eyes slightly. Mycroft’s belly quivered as it was caressed, and he gasped quietly as Peter’s hands settled on his hips and tugged downward firmly.

“Sit down, you silly thing.”  

“Oh, but...” Mycroft’s cheeks felt as though they may simply melt off his face, not with desire, but with shame.

Peter clucked his tongue with a fond sort of exasperation. “I dunno where you got this notion in your head that you’re some sort of galumphing elephant, but it tain’t true.” He trailed one finger down Mycroft’s sternum, grinning as a strangled noise passed through his lips. “You en’t gonna hurt me. Come on down here.”

Mycroft did as he was told, letting his thighs spread a bit wider as he tentatively settled himself on the boy’s lap, draping his arms over his shoulders. He sighed into Peter’s mouth as he was drawn in closer, simply sinking into his languid kisses as he was caressed reverently. He squirmed against the tightening in his trousers as he pressed their tongues together, sucking gently before pulling off with a little nip at Peter’s bottom lip.

“Damn.” Peter looked at him in pleased surprise, his eyes hooded with arousal. “Quick learner.”

Mycroft smiled as saucily as he could, terribly self-conscious and hoping that it didn’t come out looking sickly instead. “I have always been a _very_ apt pupil.”

Peter shook his head as he squeezed gently at Mycroft’s middle, running his hands up his torso. “Cain’t say I’m all that surprised. ‘Course, I’m not too slow on the draw myself.” He swiftly flicked at Mycroft’s nipples, giving one a gentle twist, grinning fiercely at the shuddering moan he received for his efforts.

Mycroft let out another indeterminate noise as Peter did it again, rocking forward and grinding down onto him. In the next moment he was clasped firmly about the middle as Peter held him fast, groaning low at the feel of his heated skin against his. “Careful there - ‘m close.”

Mycroft grabbed hold of Peter’s hair and used it to pull his head back, dipping down to nip at his chin and running his nose along his cheekbone. “Already?” He sank down as low as he could on the boy’s lap, rolling his hips in tiny arrested motions as Peter clutched at his bum, trying in vain to hold him still.

Peter shook his head, disbelief warring the lust in his eyes. “You dun’t even know, do ya? What you do to me...” He sighed quietly as Mycroft froze still, his eyes wide and confused. “I been hard off and on all bloody night, you daft thing - all sodding week, in fact!” He tilted his head, his wicked grin melting into something soft as he looked into Mycroft’s eyes. “These past couple of days... I knew you were watching me, love - could feel it. An’ every time you laid these gorgeous eyes of yours on me, I’d have to duck into the water just to keep from embarrassin’ myself. Every damn time.” Peter shifted his hips slightly and pushed up, his eyes fluttering as he ground up against Mycroft’s hardness. “I’ve wanked myself practically _raw_ since first meeting you.”

Mycroft squeaked faintly and swallowed hard, unable to keep himself from matching Peter’s movements, shivering every time their bellies rubbed together. “I... Oh good Lord. I want to _see_. Show me, Peter.”

Peter released him with a low moan, falling back onto the mat and squirming with mild desperation. “You’re free to look for yourself.”

Mycroft had to pause for a moment, just to convince himself that he wasn’t stuck in one of his lurid fantasies, that what he was experiencing was real life and no mere dream. But then Peter writhed underneath him, and Mycroft abruptly felt the trembling in his fingers cease as he accepted the truth of it. He looked down as he splayed his hand over Peter’s lean belly, tracing the path of dark hair leading into his trousers. His natural curiosity came to the fore as he let his fingers continue past the waistband, lightly mapping out the impressive bulge hidden beneath, pressing his palm down and cupping gently with his whole hand.

Peter hissed quietly, his hips bucking spasmodically. “Or... Y’know - not. S’okay - go ahead and make me come in my pants. I got a spare pair.” Mycroft sat back and ducked his head, his shoulders shaking as he tried to contain his mirth. He looked up again as gentle fingers wiped at his cheeks, as Peter cupped his face with both hands. “S’alright, love. Don’t hide yourself away from me - laugh all you like.” Peter laid back, folding his arms under his head as he offered up a saucy wink. “I am a very funny bloke, after all.”

Mycroft poked him in the belly. “Funny looking, maybe.” Peter affected an outraged glare, his own cheeks betraying him as he grinned wildly. But then his head went back as his mouth dropped open, a beautifully broken moan rising up as Mycroft gave him another squeeze. “But this... I have a feeling that _this_ is simply gorgeous.” He slipped the button free and started to draw the zip down very slowly. “I guess I’ll just have to find out for myself - as you said.”

_“Hnghk.”_ Peter sucked in a harsh breath from between his teeth as Mycroft ran the back of his finger up the curve of his cock over his pants. He squeezed his head between his arms, thrashing minutely. “Do you mean to kill me? Because you are going to kill me. Just so’s you know and all.”

Mycroft laughed quietly, shaking his head. “I mean to explore, to take my time with you.”

Peter bucked against him as Mycroft pressed his palm down again, his teeth digging into his bottom lip. “Time en’t something I got a lot of right now, you tease. You can play with me all you want, but _later_.” Peter whimpered quietly as he took hold of Mycroft’s wrist, guiding his hand back to the waistband of his pants. “Please, love. Pull these down, have your look, but make it quick, please.”

“Peter...”

“Need to feel your lovely fingers on me - need _you_ , love.” Mycroft flexed his fingers, slipping them underneath the waistband of Peter’s pants and trousers. “Please.”

Mycroft nodded and tugged, biting his lip as Peter wiggled, pushing his hips up to aid him in stripping him completely bare. He swallowed hard as he tossed the useless bundle of fabric to the side, pausing on his hands and knees above the boy as he took him in.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hehehehe. Heheh... The one in which Peter makes a bit of a mess...
> 
> Kisses!
> 
> (Please comment!)

Peter let him look his fill, his dark eyes searching Mycroft’s face with a sort of uncertainty, an expression that was all too recognisable as self-doubt. Anxious to put those fears to rest, half-disbelieving that a creature of such unparalleled perfection could even feel such doubts, Mycroft licked his lips and breathed out, “Oh, but you are beautiful.” Mycroft’s fingers once again began to tremble as he stroked Peter’s leg from knee to thigh, as he swept his palm over his lower belly. He swallowed again as the boy made an anguished sound low in his throat, his hips jerking reflexively. 

Mycroft took in a deep breath before slowly slipping his hand underneath Peter’s hard prick, cradling it gently as he perused it in the moonlight. Not that he had really done a detailed examination of his own penis, but this one was definitely thicker, a much more satisfying weight in his hand. He closed his fingers around it and slid his thumb up and over the slit, rubbing the clear pre-ejaculate all around the head and making it glisten rosily. Mycroft looked up into Peter’s adorably squinched-up face, grinning wickedly as he realised that he was holding his breath in an attempt to stave off the inevitable. 

Stroking him lightly, marvelling at the feel of the silky-hot skin in his hand, in the firmness of the tissue and easy glide of the foreskin, Mycroft leant forward and pressed his lips to Peter’s. The boy gasped into his mouth as he took in air, suddenly looping one arm around Mycroft’s neck to keep his mouth within easy kissing distance. Mycroft ducked down low, all too willing to be snogged nearly blind as Peter pushed up into his grip, the hot head of his cock glancing against the quivering flesh of his belly.

Peter gave out a little shudder every time it happened, small grunting moans breaking through with each thrust. Mycroft glanced down between their bodies, his eyebrows raising before settling his body down just a bit lower. He kissed the skin of Peter’s neck, nipping at his jaw and ear as he wriggled against him. “You - you really like that, don’t you? My s-stomach.” His belly swirled with nerves as Peter nodded blindly, his moans turning into whimpers. Blinking in disbelief, Mycroft took in a steadying breath as he tightened his grip and lowered his voice. “You want to make a mess on it, don’t you, Peter?”

Peter’s eyes flashed open, and Mycroft let out a surprised squawk as he was suddenly manhandled onto his back. The pace of the boy’s thrusts quickened as he settled over Mycroft’s thighs, as he lifted himself up on his arms and tilted his head down, watching intently. Mycroft obligingly switched his grip, pressing Peter’s cock firmly into the soft flesh of his belly, quivering with anticipation as his already frenetically uneven rhythm atop him began to stutter even further.

“Peter.” Mycroft’s breath blew out of him in sharp gusts at every one of the boy’s thrusts, and he reached up with his free hand to grasp the back of his neck. “Peter, look at me.”

“Mycr-ohhh...”

Mycroft hissed and slid his hand upward, fisting at Peter’s hair.  _ “Look at me.” _ He didn’t give the boy the chance to refuse, pulling his head back and forcing him to meet his eyes. Mycroft’s belly swirled with heat and euphoria at the look he saw there, something distant and lost, something that shattered into scintillating light as a surprisingly deep moan poured out from Peter’s parted lips. “Got you.” Mycroft smiled through an odd welter of tears as his fingers were flooded with wet heat, as his lover squirmed atop him, still thrusting feebly through the dregs of his orgasm. “Oh, but I’ve got you now, you wondrous thing.”

Peter nodded silently as his hair was released, lowering himself down until the whole of his torso was balanced somewhat precariously over Mycroft’s, tucking his face into his neck. He breathed out a quiet, “Yeah,” through his intermittent tremors, scrunching down lower as Mycroft ran the hand that was not trapped between them up and down his back. “Yeah, you do.”

Mycroft cupped his naked bottom and gave it an exploratory squeeze, chuckling along with Peter even as he marvelled at the feel of it, so firm and smooth. Biting his lip, he dug his nails in briefly, humming as the lean body atop him quivered minutely. He wiggled the fingers of both hands, grinning as Peter yelped and swiftly retaliated with a chomp at his collarbone, shimmying down just far enough to get his lips around one unguarded nipple. 

He rolled easily as he was shoved away with a short shout, flopping down on his back and reaching for his shirt, casually wiping himself down and grinning at Mycroft’s scrunched-up nose. Rolling onto his side, Peter leant in for a soft kiss as he did the same for Mycroft, gently dipping the fabric in between each sticky finger to ensure he got it all. Propping himself up on his elbow as he tossed the soiled shirt aside, Peter ran his fingers up and down and all around Mycroft’s belly, licking his lips in anticipation. “Now you.”

_ “Guh.” _

Smiling shakily at Peter’s bright laughter, Mycroft felt something down below shrivel slightly, and he mentally chided himself for his cowardice. Peter didn’t allow him to get lost in his musings, however, leaning over and drawing him back into a series of thoroughly distracting kisses. Mycroft was only vaguely aware of the boy’s hand still roaming the expanse of his torso, the sensations on the verge of being overwhelming and yet oddly distant in the face of such insistent kisses. But when those curious fingers slipped into his pants and tickled at his cock, Mycroft shuddered from top to toe and back again, clutching hard at Peter’s arm to hold him still.

Peter turned a deceptively innocent look on him, his lips turned up at the corners. “Too much, is it?”

“Devil.”

Squeezing gently, Peter pursed his lips and tilted his head suggestively. “That’s what you get for being such a horrible tease earlier.”

Mycroft looked down and frowned as he noted that his flies had somehow been undone without him even realising it. “How on earth?”

“I’m very talented.” Peter’s jesting expression turned a bit more serious as he pushed himself up and slid his hand upward over Mycroft’s belly, making him mourn the loss of his gentle and yet reassuring grip. Taking hold of the waistband of trousers and pants, Peter tugged at them questioningly, waiting for Mycroft’s slightly hesitant nod before firmly drawing everything downward. 

Mycroft distracted himself by wriggling out of his shirt and jacket as he lifted his hips, biting his lip as he sat up slightly and shoved everything away, averting his eyes from Peter’s earnest gaze. Laying back again, he reached out to caress the boy’s thigh as he knelt next to him, playing idly with the soft wisps of hair he encountered, lightly scratching his nails over his tanned skin. Mycroft swallowed hard at the barest hint of sound from Peter’s lips, almost missing the soft moan that echoed in the space between them. 

Startling slightly, Mycroft looked up into a face that was full of rapt admiration, dark eyes wide and delighted, luscious lips that were parted and trembling. He shivered as Peter once again ran his hands over his skin, squeezing gently at his belly and wrapping his fingers around his hip to tickle at the side of his bum. Without thinking, he followed the guidance of those fingers, shifting his leg so his foot was planted on the mat, gasping quietly as Peter reached underneath, cupping his bottom and dragging his nails up the side of his thigh. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Halloooo... So this is where the muse sent me this past weekend - yay for horny boys, amirite?
> 
> Kisses to all my lovelies, please do comment if you are so inclined.

Mycroft spread his legs as Peter nudged his way in between his thighs, his hands fluttering over his face and groin as if to hide himself away. He felt his face heat almost abominably as the boy leant over and gently but firmly took both hands in his, pressing them to the mat over Mycroft’s head. He squirmed even as his cheeks blazed, feeling dizzy with the heat in his brain, but he did not push back against Peter’s hold, even as he settled more of his body weight down over him.

There was a distant quadrant of his brain that felt he should resent being held down, that he should fight back or at the very least object. Instead he curled his fingers around the boy’s hands, taking in a shuddering breath as Peter’s grip shifted, as he twined their fingers together and bent down to take his mouth. Mycroft lifted his head as Peter pulled away, trying to capture his lips again, but the uncertain expression on the boy’s face made him pause, and he lifted his eyebrows in a silent query.

“I’ve a notion - something I’d like to try.” Peter shrugged in a show of nonchalance that didn’t fool Mycroft in the least. “Haven’t done it before, leastways I haven’t done it _to_ anyone.” His breath fluttered over Mycroft’s skin as he lowered his head, brushing his lips over his throat. “But it felt good - real good. I want to make you feel that good, Mycroft.” Peter breathed out a quietly wicked chuckle, meeting Mycroft’s eyes as his fingers tightened down. “I want to blow your fucking _mind_.”

Once again, Mycroft knew he should ask what the boy’s intentions were, should interrogate him on what act and what technique he would employ, but all that came out was, “Anything.” Mycroft nodded as Peter sucked in air, writhing atop him. “I am yours, and you are free to do absolutely _anything_ you wish to me.” He nodded again as if to reassure himself, squirming as Peter’s eyes blazed with desire, pushing up into his body. “Anything - God help me.”

_“Mycroft.”_

“Yes.” Mycroft obediently kept his hands pulled up over his head as Peter trailed his fingers down his arms, cupping his face in both hands and reverently running his thumbs up his cheekbones. “Yes, my love.”

Peter smiled down at him, his eyes somehow soft and fierce all at once. “My fine lad, my beautiful boy.”

“Well now, I don’t know about...”

“Hush yourself.” Peter pushed himself back up on his knees, running his hands down Mycroft’s sides. “You are the loveliest creature I’ve ever seen.” He narrowed his eyes as Mycroft scoffed. “And by the time I’m done with you, you’ll damn well believe me, you silly thing.”

Mycroft opened his mouth, but his objections were handily kissed away, the boy’s soft lips and gentle nips making his brain short out. Any further words simply floated out of his head as Peter started to move down his body, licking and sucking and rubbing the whole way. Mycroft writhed and wriggled, pushing up into each touch, breathing in the sea-scented air and letting out increasingly desperate and terribly embarrassing squeaks of pleasure.

It became fairly clear what Peter’s intentions were as he continued to move down, settling his sternum quite firmly over Mycroft’s cock and grinding down subtly. He hummed in a thoughtful manner as he swiped his tongue over Mycroft’s belly, looking up and winking at him as he smacked his lips together. “Salty.”

Mycroft burst into heady giggles, his thighs squeezing at Peter’s torso as he tried to curl in on himself, striving to hide the unbecoming quivering of his flesh. But of course the boy would not allow that, leveraging the weight of his own body to keep Mycroft spread out underneath him until his giggles subsided, his breath coming in short heaving gasps. Peter waited patiently until Mycroft had gathered himself, propping his chin up in the dip of his navel and watching his face with unfairly twinkling eyes.  

Mycroft swallowed hard as Peter once again licked at his belly, making an exaggerated squinchy face as he waggled his tongue at him. “And who’s fault would that be, I wonder?” 

“Yours. For being so damn sexy you went and made me lose control, you bastard.” 

Mycroft gaped at him momentarily, his brain automatically rejecting the notion, but his body seeming to accept the compliment as its due, as his cock twitched heartily underneath the weight of Peter’s body. His dark eyes wide with delight, the boy started to wriggle downward once again, nuzzling and nibbling as he went, tossing out random words of praise. “So smart and elegant. Lovely, creamy skin, so soft under my hands. Such a delicious creature you are...”  

Mycroft moaned unabashedly at each sound, at each touch of tongue or fingers or lips, staring up at the underside of the pier as he struggled to contain his careening heartbeat. He abruptly pushed himself up on his elbows as he felt Peter’s hair brushing at the inside of his thighs, sucking in a sharp gasp as the fiendish creature sank his teeth into the meaty flesh and sucked hard. He hummed as he pulled away, licking at the already purpling bruise and meeting Mycroft’s eyes sternly. “My beautiful boy. My sexy man.”  

Mycroft nodded dreamily as his leg throbbed pleasantly, his tongue pulsing uselessly in his mouth. “Yes. I believe you - I do.” And the oddest thing was - he honestly did. He knew that Peter was telling him nothing but the truth, that he truly did find him desirable, that he wasn’t uttering meaningless platitudes simply to have his way with him. Mycroft reached down to stroke Peter’s hair as he nuzzled into his thigh, noting for the first time how smooth and firm the flesh was, not fat and flabby as he had always perceived it to be. He watched in wonder as Peter’s lips closed down around it, marvelling at how it was drawn into his mouth, the pale hue going stark white as the boy sucked the blood to the surface. 

Mycroft’s fingers closed down on Peter’s hair, making the boy yelp quietly as he came up for air. “Peter...” Mycroft whimpered as curious fingers began to explore his nether regions, gently plucking at the tight skin of his bollocks, idly stroking his member, up and down in nearly ceaseless motions. “Oh God, Peter - _please_.” Mycroft fell back against the mat as hot breath washed over his bits, squirming desperately. “Whatever it is that you intend to do to me, will you just get _on_ with it!” 

Peter chuckled, running his nose up Mycroft’s thigh. “I want you to watch me, love. Want to see your face as I take you apart...” 

He pressed a soft kiss to the base of Mycroft’s cock, and he very nearly came right at that moment as he suddenly divined the boy’s intention. “Oh _Christ_!” Mycroft pushed himself up on his elbows again as Peter licked up his shaft, his tongue trembling against the hard flesh. He clenched his hands into tight fists as Peter’s eyes met his, his lips closing gently around the head of his cock. “Oh God oh God...” Mycroft attempted a squeaky little laugh as Peter smirked around him, his eyes full of heat and just a bit of uncertainty. “Don’t t-think I can h-hold on...”

Sucking lightly as he pulled off, Peter wrapped his hand around Mycroft’s cock and gave it a slow tug. “Just a little bit, love. I want to try.” He stuck out his tongue and licked at his treat. "Please?"


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And a bit more filth and fluff because why the hell not! Nearly done with this one - only one more chapter, and then we'll be back to present-day Mycroft and his constipated emotions - yay!
> 
> Kisses, my lovelies - please do comment if you are so inclined!

Mycroft nodded feverishly, his tongue gone quite numb and incapable of proper speech. He watched with wide eyes as Peter slowly bobbed his head, keeping the grip of both mouth and fingers light and loose. Although Mycroft was very nearly in agony, he held himself as still as possible as the boy cautiously tested his own limits, slowly sliding down on his cock just a bit further with each pass. He was able to take in about half of Mycroft’s length before gagging quietly around him, pausing with his cock still in his mouth to take in breath until the quivering in his throat had subsided.

Sucking in a harsh breath of his own and holding it in until his head spun, Mycroft somehow _just_ managed to maintain his grip on his control and his sanity. Momentarily frozen in their erotic tableau, they eyed each other uncertainly until an equilibrium had seemingly been established, their breathing evening out and the hectic spots of colour retreating from their cheeks. Peter pulled off slowly, once again stroking Mycroft with a light and almost unbearably slippery touch.

Mycroft blinked dazedly down at the boy’s hand, watching it glide over his member, spreading the excess of his saliva around and making an absolute mess. Mycroft’s brain stuttered, his only thought _‘so sloppy - oh but sloppy’s_ good... _’_

“Oh, but just look at ya...” Peter smirked at his own raspy voice, his eyes darting eagerly over Mycroft’s face. “So turned on you can’t even _think_ right now.” He twisted his wrist in a rather unsporting fashion.

 _“Asfguh.”_ Peter’s bright laughter echoed through the dark space, lighting Mycroft up from the inside. Shaking his head slightly, he reached out to take hold of the boy’s arm, squeezing it gently. “Peter...”

Peter ducked his head, his fringe falling into his face before he tossed it back, something in the set of his mouth becoming rather determined. “Yes, love. Promise. I just want to try one more time.”

Mycroft obligingly settled back again as Peter shifted between his legs, sliding back up onto his knees before hunching down over him. Gifting him with a saucy wink, he let go of Mycroft’s cock with his hand, cautiously cradling the head on his tongue. With a deep breath in through his nose, he began to sink down, opening his mouth wide and angling his head just so. Mycroft practically yelped as he watched his cock disappearing nearly all the way into Peter’s mouth, as he felt it slide right down his throat. _‘Oh bloody_ hell... _’_

Peter looked up at him with triumph in his eyes just a moment before taking in a bit more than he could handle, choking ferociously and letting Mycroft slip from his mouth as he sat up, his eyes leaking tears and chin smeared with saliva. Staring up at him wide-eyed, Mycroft could barely even think to himself how beautiful and wild he was before Peter grinned at him wickedly and once again bent down over him. He allowed himself no further learning curve, granted no more gentle teases. Now there was just a firm grip, stroking in rhythm to relentless suction and it was bare moments before Mycroft was crying out a warning, his body convulsing as he finally climaxed, his vision whiting out around the edges and yet somehow remaining laser-focused on Peter’s eyes.

His body was still quivering as he was released, barely conscious of the sound of spitting and the crack of a bottle lid. Lifting one eyebrow as he turned his head, Mycroft watched as Peter guzzled what remained of the soda he had opened earlier. Running one hand through his hair sheepishly, the boy shrugged. “Now that there’s a taste that’s gonna take a bit of gettin’ used to.”

Mycroft snorted and broke down into giggles, doing absolutely nothing to try and hide his jiggling belly away from Peter’s admiring gaze. “Horrid creature.” He shivered as he was wiped down, eyeing the boy’s soiled shirt with distaste as it was tossed aside. “You’re going to have to bin that, I think.”

Peter chuckled, reaching around the piling to grab the blankets. He folded one up and slipped it under Mycroft’s head to act as a pillow before laying down at his side, unfurling the second one so that it draped over the both of them. Mycroft eagerly rolled into Peter’s side as he settled back, wrapping his arm around his waist and tucking his head into the crook of his shoulder. “Probably just wind up under my bed like all the crusty socks an’ pants that my Mam refuses to acknowledge.”

“Good God. Can’t say I blame her.”

Peter laughed again as he trailed his fingers up and and down Mycroft’s arm. “Me either, ta be honest. I’m a beast.”

“Filthy creature.”

Peter gave Mycroft a hearty squeeze. “Aw, ya love it.”

 _‘Oh God, I do. I really really do.’_ Mycroft pressed his lips to Peter’s chest, not even trying to fight against or hide his tears, simply letting them fall and tasting his own misery on his lover’s skin.

“Here now...” Mycroft sniffled as Peter turned into him, cradling his face with gentle hands, swiping his tears away with his thumbs. “What’s all this, then?”

“I will never-” Mycroft took in breath with a little sob, dropping his gaze to Peter’s lips. “I will n-never find anyone like you again. Not _ever_.”

“Oh, but of course ya will, silly thing.” Peter stroked his fingers through Mycroft’s hair and down his back, trailing them over the globes of his arse. “You’re going to University, love. So many people to meet there. An’ then you’ll be a big man in the big city an’ meet even more. I reckon you’ll meet someone just as wonderful as you are an’ forgit all about me.”

“I couldn’t possibly! I - I...” Mycroft bit his lip as the words stalled in his throat, letting them die away completely as he read the very same thing in Peter’s eyes. “My f-first - I’ll never forget you.”

“First?” Mycroft nodded as Peter’s breath brushed over his lips, keeping his eyes downcast. “Me too.”

Mycroft scoffed quietly. “Well now - that’s just a blatant lie.”

“No - not first _this_ , ya ninny.” Peter rocked his hips forward, making Mycroft gasp and shiver. His voice dropped low, vibrating into Mycroft’s chest. “My first love.”

“Oh God - Peter, I...” Peter didn’t allow him to get much further, whether out of pity or need, it hardly mattered. Mycroft wasn’t even entirely sure how their legs had gotten so entangled under the blanket, but he made no move to unwind himself as they rocked together, sweat and desire making their bodies sweetly slippery, their lips meeting again and again as hot breath cascaded between them. Peter nipped at Mycroft’s neck as he came up for air, digging his nails into his bottom, holding him in place as he thrust against him mindlessly.

Whether there was something in the ceaseless quivering of his body or in the rising crescendo of his voice, Peter somehow knew that he was close. He drew back just far enough to look down, to watch as Mycroft’s cock twitched and released, striping Peter’s lower belly and groin with his come. Mycroft blinked rapidly as Peter dabbled his fingers in it and spread it over his skin, groaning low as he took himself in hand and looked into his eyes. Mycroft nodded, quick and breathless, his eyelashes fluttering as he felt the hot splashes against his belly, as he watched Peter’s mouth drop open, listening to that heart-rending moan once again and delighting in the knowledge that _he_ was the cause of such pleasure.

They both marvelled at the mess they had made together, running their fingers through it and reaching out to trace elaborate symbols over the other’s skin, marking each other, staking a claim. Giggling faintly, Mycroft threw his arms around Peter’s neck and peppered his face with kisses, squealing quietly as he was manhandled onto his back.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we come to the end of this portion of the story, as melancholy and bittersweet as it is...
> 
> But fear not! There is a part IV wherein our heroes will be reunited, and I will be posting the first chapter of that right after this one. 
> 
> As always, I adore you all - please do comment if you are so inclined!

Mycroft sighed as Peter pushed himself up slightly, looking down on him with vaguely mournful eyes. “It’s gettin’ late.”

Mycroft shook his head just once, pulling Peter’s face into the crook of his neck. “Don’t care. Not gonna move. Want to stay here with you forever.”

Peter nuzzled at his skin, breathing out a quiet moan. “Well, if we dun’t at least clean up, we _will_  wind up stuck to each other fer quite a while, so...” He shifted his hips meaningfully, breaking down into chuckles as Mycroft’s face squinched up at the sensation of their bellies scraping against each other.

_“Urgh.”_

“Yeah.” Mycroft hissed out his displeasure as Peter sat up very slowly, both of them wincing as their stomachs peeled away from each other. He stayed up on his knees, perched over Mycroft’s thighs, rubbing a little ruefully at his blotchy skin as he glanced over his shoulder at the water just yards away. Peter grinned as Mycroft nodded, standing and holding out a hand for him to grasp to help him get to his feet in his turn.

They paused only for Peter to sweep up his soiled shirt to act as an impromptu flannel, walking hand-in-hand to the water’s edge. After a moment of letting it tickle at their toes, they waded in until it was up over their waists. Mycroft watched as Peter attempted to scrub out the crustiest bits on his shirt, giggling quietly as he glared at him half-heartedly. After a quick rubdown, chafing at his skin until it was ruddy and pink, Peter came to him, using one clean corner to gently scrub the gunk off of Mycroft’s belly.

He ran his fingers over and around, a reverent look in his eyes as his thumb skipped over Mycroft’s navel. “So soft an’ lovely - my sweet boy, my summer love...”

Fighting back on a low sob, Mycroft pulled him into his arms, kissing him fierce and hard, putting as much of himself into it as he could. Peter hummed into his mouth, eagerly returning his desperate kisses, plastering their bodies together as the water swirled around them. Mycroft didn’t know how long they stayed there, both of them shivering in the cold water, in the night air. A distant corner of his mind warned him about hypothermia, but he ignored it. So what, who cared - he only knew that where Peter was, he wanted to be also, and if that meant freezing into a solid block of ice then so be it.

It wasn’t until their chattering teeth collided rather painfully, causing them to recoil away from each other, that they retreated back to the mat. Peter took up the blanket and wrapped them both in it until they were dry and relatively warm again. By mutual if unspoken assent, they did not settle back down, and they did not engage in anything but the softest of kisses and most innocent of touches. Once they had stopped shivering, they both turned aside to dress. Mycroft shook his head chidingly as Peter rolled up his wet shirt and thrust it into a plastic sack, silently draping his jacket over Peter’s shoulders.

Smiling at him somewhat gratefully, Peter zipped it up before retrieving their shoes, sticking his trainers into the bag. He held Mycroft’s loafers in his left hand and held out his right, waiting for him to take it before bringing him in for a fleeting kiss. Then they left their little slice of heaven behind, climbing the dunes and heading back toward the cottage that Mycroft’s family had let for their holiday.

Once again walking in silence, their steps heavy and slow over the well-weathered boards of the pier, the two boys tried to delay the inevitable, meandering in a long, circular path from one side of the boardwalk to the other. They swung their arms and watched their bare feet as they trudged along, glancing up at the dark sky and over the darker water, not once looking at each other.

Mycroft’s teeth began to chatter again as they came to the path that led to the cottage, feeling as though his skin was aflame over a solid core of ice. He almost felt as though he was going to be sick, even though he knew there was no logical reason for it. He chanced a look at Peter’s face, seeing something very similar there, a tightness around his eyes and a bit of green in his cheeks. He tried to stop his feet from moving forward, but it was as though he had no control over his own body. Even the hand that was holding Peter’s felt like it belonged to someone else, that he was simply witnessing this bittersweet moment through a stranger’s eyes.

 _‘I can’t, I can’t - can’t do this can’t say goodbye can’t watch him leave oh my God I_ am _going to be ill...’_

Nevertheless, he kept walking, drawing closer to Peter as they approached the door to the cottage. Peter offered a small, tight smile as he bent down to place Mycroft’s shoes on the stoop, letting his bag fall from his hand. They gravitated together, embracing under the single light, simply holding on to each other, revelling in the heat of their overwrought bodies, breathing in the scent of the ocean on their skin.

Mycroft whimpered as Peter started to pull away, running his hand down the front of his borrowed jacket, grasping the zipper. “No. Keep it, please.” He attempted a jesting smile. “Can’t have you catching cold - who will look after your Lost Boys then?”

Peter’s lower lip wobbled slightly. “Yer mum won’t get mad?”

Mycroft shook his head and shrugged all at once. “Probably won’t even notice. Really - it’s alright.”

Peter zipped it back up and cradled Mycroft’s face in both hands, bringing their foreheads together. “Thank you, Mycroft. For everything - you’ve made this my best summer ever.”

Mycroft huffed out a laugh even as he took in Peter’s sweetly-scented breath. “You’re thanking me? It’s me who should be thanking _you_ for your - tutelage. You’ve been remarkably kind considering my own lack of experience.”

“I’ve been a randy bastard is what I’ve been.”

Mycroft giggled. “Well, that too. And thank goodness for it.”

Peter grinned, slipping his hands up Mycroft’s shirt and squeezing gently at his belly. “I love it when you laugh.” He pressed a kiss to one corner of his mouth. “I love the way you move.” Mycroft’s breath hitched as Peter’s lips ghosted lightly over his, as he kissed the opposite corner. “I love the way you smell.” He nipped at the end of Mycroft’s nose, chuckling softly as he went a bit cross-eyed. “I love the sound of your voice, especially when you come - you go all squeaky, and it is fucking _adorable_.”

Mycroft sputtered as his face went all hot. “You... You - devil.”

Peter slowly shook his head, kissing either cheek. “I love the silly names you call me when you get all flustered.” Mycroft tilted his head as Peter finally took his lips, kissing him with such sweetly fierce devotion that he almost swooned. “God damn it all, I love _you_ , Mycroft Holmes.”

Mycroft clutched hard at Peter’s hips, willing his knees to stop wobbling as his head spun. “Oh God - Peter... Peter, I...”

“No.” Mycroft staggered as Peter drew away slightly, his expression something between angry and desolate, miserable and yet determined. Cupping a hand around the back of Mycroft’s head, he put his lips to his ear. “Greg.” He heaved out a shuddering breath, nipping and tugging at the sensitive lobe one last time. “My name is _Greg_.”

And then the warmth of his body was suddenly gone, leaving Mycroft to slump against the door, watching his summer love walk away with bag in hand, his head high and shoulders tight. He suppressed a sob against his clenched fist as Greg began to trot and then to run, knowing that he was doing the right thing, loving him all the more for being the one brave enough to leave - and for being strong enough not to look back.

**Author's Note:**

> Not beta'd or brit-picked. Characters not mine, but the situation definitely is!
> 
> If you'd like to get notifications from tumblr, I'm at 'bitemebat.tumblr.com'. Come follow me, and you'll get pretty boys and soft kitties on your dash!


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